C. 正文:
The Waste Land --By T. S. Eliot
FOR EZRA POUND/ IL MIGLIOR FABBRO
I. The Burial of the Dead
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke’s,
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
Frisch weht der Wind
Der Heimat zu
Mein Irisch Kind,
Wo weilest du?
“You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
“They called me the hyacinth girl.”
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Oed’ und leer das Meer.
Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
Had a bad cold, nevertheless
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,
Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)
Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,
The lady of situations.
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,
Which is blank, is something he carries on his back,
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:
One must be so careful these days.
Unreal City,
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
I had not thought death had undone so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying: “Stetson!
“You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!
“That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
“Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
“Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?
“Oh keep the Dog far hence, that’s friend to men,
“Or with his nails he’ll dig it up again!
“You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!”
荒原—by T.S.ELIOT/翻译:墨梅
(献给埃兹拉·庞德/最卓越的匠人)
一、逝者之葬
四月此月残忍极至,绽育着
死亡地上的丁香,混杂着
回忆和思欲,催促着
愚钝的根芽以绵绵之雨。
冬季曾温暖我们,覆盖着
大地以令人易忘之雪,供给
营养给几许生命以枯干的球茎。
夏季意外降临,来至斯丹卜基西
在下阵雨之时;我们暂停在柱廊下躲避,
等太阳出来又继续行进,达至霍夫加登,
喝喝咖啡,聊聊天就用了一个小时。
我不是俄国人,虽是立陶宛来的,却其实是德国人。
而且我们儿童时住在大公那里
是我表兄家,他带着我出去滑雪橇呢,
我很害怕。他说,玛丽,
玛丽,牢牢揪住。我们就往下冲去。
在群山中,你才会觉得自由自在无拘无束。
我阅读,大半个晚上,冬天我去往南方。
那些紧拥泥土的树根是何植物龙8国际官方网址什么树枝
从这乱石般垃圾里长出龙8国际官方网址人之子,
你说不清,也猜不明,因你仅知
一堆破碎之图,正受太阳之击
枯死之树毫无遮护,蟋蟀也就无限痛苦。
焦石间水声全无。只有
这块红石下尚有影子,
(请躲入这块红石的影里)
我将在这二者里指出迥异:既不是
早起迈在你身后的影,也不是
傍晚起身去迎接你的影;
我要给你看一握尘土之惧。
清风疾驰,
吹我归去;
爱尔兰之子,
你归于何处龙8国际官方网址
“一年前你先给我了风信子
他们喊我是风信子女郎”,
——可等我们归去,已晚,从风信子花园走出,
你花卉满臂,你头发潮湿,我无以
言语,我双眸盲矣,我既没死
也没活,我一无所知,
望着灯光之芯,声沉音寂。
荒凉空旷是那大海。
梭梭屈里斯夫人,那著名的相士,
罹患严重感冒,可依然是
欧洲赫赫有名最具智慧的女子,
有副怪诞的纸牌。这里,她曰,
是你的牌,是淹死了的腓尼基水手,
(那些珍珠实乃他眼,看!)
这张是贝洛多纳,岩石的女主人
一个灵活机变的女人。
这张是个持有三根杖的男子,这张是转轮,
这张是个独眼商人,这张牌面
空空如也,是他扛在背上之物。
可又不许我目睹。我也没能寻见
“那被绞死之人”。对淹死我心存恐惧。
我看见成群成堆的人,绕圈打转。
感谢你。若你看见亲爱的爱奎尔夫人
转告她说我自己把天宫图给她带去:
这年头啊谨慎小心那是必须。
虚幻般的城市,
笼于冬日棕色的晓雾里,
一群人流溢过伦敦桥,人好多呀,
我没想到死亡已毁了这么多。
叹息,又短又少,吐出心肺,
人人都死死盯于自己足前。
人群流上山又流下威廉王街道,
到会报道时辰的圣玛丽吴尔诺斯教堂而至,
教堂敲响了最后无生气的第九下声音。
我见到个熟人在那里,我将他拦住,喊道:“斯代孙!”
“在迈里的船上你和我曾在一起!
去年你种在你花园里的死尸,
它发芽了吗龙8国际官方网址今年会开花吗龙8国际官方网址
还是忽来冰霜弄坏了它的花床龙8国际官方网址
哦,你因此得让狗远远离开,它可是人类之友,
不然它会用爪子把它又挖刨出来!
你!伪君子!——我的同类——我的兄弟! ”
* arch-duke:大公,爵位的一种。 Sled:雪橇。
clutch:抓紧。 heap:堆。
cricket:蟋蟀。 relief:解救,安慰。
either ;二者之一 。 striding:跨步。
hyacinths:风信子。 clairvoyante:洞察力特别好,第六感官特别好的人。
wicked:邪恶,奇怪。 stave:棍子。
horoscope:算命的星座图。 Unreal:虚幻,不真实。
undone:毁灭性。 infrequent:不频繁 ; exhale:吸气。
有几个不是英语的句子,最开始的是意大利语,中间部分是德语,还有法语/尤其最后一句。
这诗别人也翻译过,但我把它翻译得比较具有音律规则一些,其实原诗本身不是太具有音律美,只不过我觉得那样翻译读起来比较爽!
当然,既然是象征主义,就是想像出来的故事,里面说的很多东西都是暗指、代指,其实另有所意/只不过是什么,大家随便猜测就是了,你若对西方文化了解得越是多,就可能越是能接近诗人的意思!
--待续--